


When no-one is watching

by thegirl20



Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom is bored one evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When no-one is watching

**Author's Note:**

> _People do terrible things when they think no one is watching them._ ~ Bree, Episode 10, Come back to me.

“Bye honey.”  
  
Lynette gave Tom a quick peck on the lips as she ran by him on her way out the door, slamming it after her. Tom watched her go.  
  
“Yeah, bye honey.”  
  
Lynette had gone to Bree Van De Kamp’s house for coffee. Again. Tom understood that all was not well with Bree’s marriage and her children, but he resented the amount of time his wife spent over there while he was home. He was away so often that he expected his wife to want to spend some time with him while he was around.   
  
Tom sighed and loosened his tie while heading to the fridge. He got out a bottle of beer and took a long, cool drink. Lynette was out, the kids were in bed and Claire had gone out for the evening with some friends. Tom was at a loose end. He flicked aimlessly through the channels on TV for a while but couldn’t find anything to hold his interest. He decided to call it a night, he’d had a hard week at work and could do with a good sleep. He switched the TV off and trudged upstairs, unbuttoning his shirt on the way.  
  
He turned on the light in the bedroom. Lynette’s laptop was set up on the nightstand. A flicker of a conversation came back to Tom. Lynette had installed a Nanny-cam to keep an eye on Claire when she was with the kids.   
  
Suddenly, Tom wasn’t so tired anymore. He turned the laptop on and quickly got out of his clothes, leaving only his boxers on. He jumped onto the bed and pulled the laptop over beside him. He clicked on the program that allowed him to view the day’s activity. He was quickly treated to a view of the empty kitchen. This was early, early morning. He fast-forwarded until people began appearing, walking very quickly and speaking in high, squeaky voices. Lynette and Claire were first up, making coffee and talking at the table. Then the boys appeared, running around and demanding breakfast.  
  
Tom felt vaguely guilty as he fast-forwarded until Claire was in the kitchen on her own, preparing a packed lunch for the kids. She was taking them to the park.  
  
Tom watched her as she moved around the kitchen, her full breasts jiggling slightly with every step. He felt himself grow hard and he started to stroke himself lightly through the material of his boxers. When she bent over to pick up a knife she’d dropped, a shudder ran through Tom’s body and he had to free his erection from its confines. He wrapped his full fist tightly around his shaft and stroked rhythmically, his breath becoming short. He reached out to pause the image of his very young and buxom nanny in a particularly tantalising pose, but in his haste he hit ‘fast-forward’ again and his arousing display turned slightly farcical.  
  
Tom kept a grip on himself, not wanting to lose the feeling as he desperately tried to stop the images of his children running around madly in front of his eyes. The kids and Claire all ran out of the door at high speed just as he located the right button to slow the action down again.   
  
He was looking for ‘rewind’ when a noise from on-screen drew his attention. It seemed almost like a muffled, moan. Only Lynette would have been in the house after Claire and the kids had gone to the park.  
  
“You get me so hot.”  
  
Tom’s eyes went wide. That was Lynette’s voice. But the action was still off-screen. More distorted sounds. Tom’s arousal died as the blood rose to his face in anger. He held as his breath as he continued to listen in horrified fascination to his wife being intimate with another man. In his house. While he was working.  
  
“On the table.”  
  
Tom’s breath caught in his throat at his wife’s guttural command. He was going to see them. A part of him wanted to turn the images off and pretend it wasn’t happening. But a bigger part of him needed to see it. He needed to feel the fury now.   
  
What he saw next, he was in no way prepared for.  
  
Bree Van De Kamp appeared on the monitor, wearing a pair of slacks and a bra. Lynette quickly followed, wearing even less, pushing Bree ahead of her. When the backs of Bree’s thighs connected with the edge of the table the two women met in a hungry kiss driven by pure need. Bree’s hands danced up Lynette’s back and tangled in her hair. Lynette’s hand was kept busy caressing Bree’s breast with a tenderness that wasn’t evident in the bruising kiss they continued to share.  
  
When their lips finally parted, Bree’s mouth immediately went to Lynette’s neck, biting down on a prominent tendon she found there. Lynette urged Bree up onto the table and climbed up to straddle her waist as Bree lay back. Lynette unhooked her bra and threw it to the side with abandon as Bree’s expression changed. Lynette started to lean in but Bree’s hand came up to stop her.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
Tom watched as Lynette sat back up, her breath coming fast.  
  
“What?”   
  
“I think I’m lying on toast.”  
  
Bree reached behind her and brought out the offending breakfast leftover and threw it in the same direction as Lynette’s bra. Tom absently thought how un-Bree-like that seemed. Then the absurdity of that thought hit him. Here he was, watching a woman whom he had previously regarded as asexual, having hot and heavy sex on his kitchen table and the thing that had struck him was her surprising lack of hygiene?   
  
He casually wondered if he might be in shock. His brain certainly didn’t seem to be functioning properly. He should be mad with jealousy and hurt. He watched in a manner that seemed almost detached as his wife removed their neighbour’s trousers in a somewhat awkward manner, given their precarious position.   
  
“Come on baby, I need you now.”  
  
Bree Van De Camp and sex-talk. Two things that should never be connected. Tom continued to watch in his foggy stupor as Lynette’s hand slid down Bree’s flat stomach and under the elastic of her panties. Bree’s eyes closed and her back arched as Lynette’s hand moved slowly, slowly. Bree’s fingers ran down Lynette’s back, leaving discernable marks on the skin there.  
  
Tom stared at Bree’s face, transfixed. Need and passion were stark on her features. Her bottom lip caught painfully between her teeth as she held on to Lynette’s shoulders. Tom watched her brow scrunch up and her breathing quicken. And when Bree screamed out his wife’s name at the height of her orgasm, Tom got hard again.


End file.
